Big day in Middle-earth

Anyone who thinks The Lord of the Rings is a trilogy of films hasn't
been paying attention. When the closing chapter The Return of the King
had its world premiere in Wellington early this month, the city shut down for
half a day to hold a parade. It wound through the main commercial corridors of
town right to the Embassy theatre, renovated in record speed and at huge expense
for the event and bearing a giant sculpture of a dragon on its roof.

The city was on show. Road construction works had been hurriedly finished,
the streets had been cleaned and the homeless politely moved on, to present the
most attractive face as more than 200 media reps from around the world closed
in.

Although it wasn't an official school day off, there were plenty of school
uniforms among the crowd of 125,000 who lined the parade route. Word on the
street was that kids could get half the day off to attend the celebration as
long as they brought a note from their parents.

Nearly every shopfront in Wellington bore some sort of Lord of the
Rings sign, with some clothing stores taking an extra step and dressing
their mannequins as Orcs, those ugly, fanged critters who swarm across the
screen like plagues of mice in all three films. And, of course, people dressed
up - white-bearded Gandalfs, big-footed hobbits, Vulcan-eared elves and
axe-wielding dwarfs.

In 2001, the producers of Pearl Harbour managed to commandeer an
aircraft carrier for their world premiere in Hawaii. That was peanuts compared
with what was going on here. Director Peter Jackson and his team had not only
commandeered an entire city for their cause, but the entire country. J.R.R.
Tolkien may have intended The Lord of the Rings as an epic myth for
England, but even he would acknowledge - no doubt with a quiet smile - that the
world of Middle-earth and the tiny nation of New Zealand had become inextricably
and intimately intertwined.

With the New Zealand landscape being as big a character as Frodo, the films
have become symbols of national pride, have seeped so deeply into the national
psyche that the premiere felt more like a celebration of global conquest than
the opening of a movie.

The man of the moment, of course, rode in pride of place in the parade. More
than a filmmaker, a national hero - again with the aura of a victorious general
freshly returned from battle - Peter Jackson has become so associated with the
Lord of the Rings that he almost shares authorship with Tolkien. Every
televised coverage of the parade focused on Jackson, ending with a freeze frame
of him, one hand waving to fans, the other holding a digital video camera.

At the podium he got bigger cheers than Orlando Bloom, Liv Tyler, Viggo
Mortensen or Elijah Wood. Puckish, bearded, pudgy and without a skerrick of
exhaustion or hubris despite the first two Rings films earning more
than $2 billion worldwide (so far), he thanked the city, thanked the country,
thanked the people who had helped make the first two films so huge and who would
no doubt push the third instalment into the record books.

Even before the first film came out it was clear The Lord of the
Rings trilogy would represent much more to New Zealand than a mere boost to
the local film industry. Bankrolled by American film company New Line but
brought to glorious life by New Zealand talent and with the digitally enhanced
New Zealand landscape standing in for Middle-earth, the Lord of the Rings has
proved to be the biggest promotional platform for tourism the citizens could
possibly have dreamt for.

An estimated 26,000 Kiwis were directly involved, one way or another, in the
production of The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The
Return of the King, but millions have happily become de facto volunteer
officers for the New Zealand tourism bureau. Speaking to people at random you
got spiels on the country's attractions, the best places to eat, the things you
simply must see. It's enough to make you ashamed to be Australian.

And the place was swarming with tourists, inspired to visit this wind-blasted
semi-colon of the South Pacific because of the films. There were plenty of them
at the One Ring party the night before the premiere, mostly from America on
package tours to check out the movies' locations. They boisterously acknowledged
their love of the films, their admiration for Jackson and the fact that they
were the end-product of all the exposure through the films that the New Zealand
tourist bureau had been hoping for.

Maria, 38, from Atlanta joked about how she had happily abandoned her husband
and daughter to be here for the premiere, using money - $US4000 - the family had
saved for the trip. The reason she was here, the only reason she had even
thought of New Zealand as a holiday destination, was because of the films. Not a
Lord of the Rings fan before Fellowship was released, she
confessed to being a total convert to the cause. Indeed, fulfilling one of
Jackson's aims, the films had turned her on to the books, which she dutifully
read after seeing each film. "The Lord of the Rings has replaced
Star Wars in my heart."

Maria's story was echoed throughout Wellington, and is no doubt echoed across
the globe as sales of the books spike. Even teenage girls at Wellington airport,
their forearms covered in Lord of the Rings markings, their school
cases covered in cut-outs of Orlando and Elijah, say the films led them to the
books, which they read voraciously. One did not have to believe in the
paranormal to sense the spirit of Tolkien smiling.

As much as the nation has been galvanised behind the films, you will not find
throughout the length and breadth of Middle-earth a greater champion of what the
trilogy means to New Zealand than Prime Minister Helen Clark.

And you didn't have to hear what she thought through a press statement, or at
the official function at the Te Papa museum where she addressed the world's
media (as well as everybody who was anybody in New Zealand tourism). You just
had to ask her.

This being New Zealand, you don't have to make an appointment or negotiate
your way through a team of minders and security people and handlers to get to
Clark. You just walk up to her table at the party after the premiere screening
of Return of the King, tap her on her shoulder - draped in specially made
costume chain mail as featured in the film, no less - and she will happily yak
to you about how the films exemplify the ingenuity and creativity of the Kiwi
character.

"The first New Zealander to win a Nobel Prize, Lord (Ernest) Rutherford (in
1908) who split the atom, once said, 'We haven't got a lot of money, so we've
got to think'," she said. "So I think New Zealand's a country that's had to
build itself on its brains. It doesn't have a lot of minerals, it can't go and
dig another hole, it's got to be smart, it's got to think laterally and I think
people are very creative here. We've put a big emphasis on the creative arts and
the spillover effects for that for society are really starting to come
through."

Its creative achievements to one side, there's no question that Jackson and
the other producers of the Rings trilogy have created a new high-water mark in
intelligent marketing with the way they have maintained the Lord of the Rings
brand name over three years in an overcrowded movie market.

It was a daring adventure, making three epic films back-to-back, but in a
film environment where $100 million blockbusters are released every second week
and tend to disappear from view after two weekends, it has been a singular
achievement keeping the Rings profile high and fresh. Collectable merchandise
and deals with promotional partners that see Rings characters appearing on
everything from junk food drinks to packets of chips to chocolate bars has
helped, but only a bit.

The real genius behind sustaining the brand has been through the
magnificently engineered public delusion that there are three Rings films. There
are, in fact, nine - three versions of each title.

Jackson and his team can lay claim to a lot of technical and creative firsts
with these films (though they may have to fight it out with the Matrix
boys). But there is one first that will no doubt prove to be one of the most
enduring, and which is beyond argument. It is the first time a filmmaker has
taken such ingenious advantage of the DVD format.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy is the first example of a director
planning both a theatrical version and an extended DVD version of his films
before he started making them, rather than as an afterthought. The extended
versions of Fellowship and Two Towers are not artificially
bloated versions of the theatrical film, with deleted scenes thrown in to pad
out the running time. They were planned that way from the start specifically for
the format.

This has resulted in each Rings film effectively getting three major
releases. First comes the theatrical release, where everyone gets excited with
media coverage and star tours. Once that commercial pulse has been worked
through, there comes the initial two-disc DVD release featuring the theatrical
version and the usual host of extras. Then comes Jackson's special extended
version - including specially commissioned figurines for those who want to lash
out - incorporating footage he never intended for the cinema release. By this
time, of course, excitement has already started building for the theatrical
release of the next Rings instalment.

The Lord of the Rings has effectively been in people's minds and
faces, without respite; people have simply been given no chance to forget about
it or to have the name dislodged from their brain by some other passing
blockbuster.

Blockbusters come and go - and mostly they go - but the release strategy
behind The Lord of the Rings has managed to lodge the name in people's
lobes for an inordinately long time. It might be pushing it to call it
brilliance, but the strategy is extraordinarily cunning, motivated in equal
parts by creative impulse and marketing savvy.

On top of that, of course, you can bet the farm on a special boxed set of all
three films once The Return of the King has worked through its release
pattern. This has not been announced or mentioned anywhere, it's just
speculation that follows the marketing of the Rings films to a logical
conclusion.

To say that the films have power over fans is to indulge in a degree of
understatement that is almost criminal. The level of anticipation the final film
had generated in Wellington was ferocious, something I discovered after
foolishly telling people I had already seen it at the press preview on Saturday
afternoon. People were almost begging for any hint as to what The Return of
the King was like, but they clearly weren't interested in an objective
assessment. They didn't want me to give any of it away, of course: "Just tell me
it's brilliant" was the common refrain.

It was only by summoning the greatest amount of self-restraint that I
refrained from saying anything either way, lest I spoil their anticipation. They
found my reticence simultaneously excruciating and exquisite. It just built
their excitement all the more.

It is the ability of the Rings films to inspire that will determine
how they will endure. I got a very good indication of this in the foyer of the
Intercontinental Hotel, where I had the pleasure of meeting the Gaunt family
from Auckland, who had won a Mastercard competition to attend the premiere of
The Return of the King and the after-party. The father, Michael,
introduced me to his wife, daughter and to his young son, Ben, who was carrying
an archery bow.

He explained that Ben was a big fan of Legolas, the archer in the film played
by Orlando Bloom, and his hope was to meet Bloom as he came into the hotel so he
could sign it. I said it was a cool idea but that it might be a bit tough
getting Bloom's attention, what with all the girls screaming for him outside the
hotel and his hectic interview schedule.

Still, I wished Ben luck on his quest and mentioned that he might have more
luck getting the autograph at the party, which all the cast would be
attending.

At the party I ran into the Gaunt family again. Ben proudly showed me his
bow, which by now had been signed by a good number of the cast. Bloom, however,
remained elusive, but they were hoping to find him in the crowd. I said I was
impressed by Ben's effort and again wished him luck.

About an hour later I chanced upon the Gaunt family at the far end of the
hall near one of the bars. Ben had news. He had finally nailed Bloom, who not
only signed the bow but was happy to take photos with him. Ben showed me all the
signatures he now had on the bow. "He's got the entire fellowship," his father
proudly proclaimed over the din. Ben was beaming.

As I congratulated Ben for his effort I sensed from his handshake and from
the joy in his eyes that this was going to be one of the best moments of his
life. You don't get too many times like this, and he was right in the middle of
one.

People have devoted millions of words to dissecting and discussing the lore
of The Lords of the Rings, about the various readings and meanings
J.R.R. Tolkien encoded within his stories of hobbits and wizards and orcs and
elves. To me, meeting this boy and seeing that triumphant look in his eyes at
the end of his quest was analysis enough. I somehow felt the spirit of Tolkien
at that moment agreeing, and smiling quietly to himself.